


hold me while you wait

by admiringlove



Category: Haikyuu!!, ハイパープロジェクション演劇「ハイキュー!!」| Hyper Projection Play "Haikyuu!!" RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Heavy Angst, Miya Osamu Needs a Hug, Osamu and angst go so well together like goddamn, Osamu is such a heartbreaking character to write about, Protective Miya Osamu, literal angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28808313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiringlove/pseuds/admiringlove
Summary: — miya osamu loved you with all of his heart and soul. he didn’t know you loved him too, but simply settled for someone else.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	hold me while you wait

_Envy._ How would you describe it?

It was a negative emotion; a _disgusting_ blend of red and green that provoked Miya Osamu from inside his heart as his heartstrings tightened and made him grimace at his own state. Osamu smiles like he’s happy right to his soul like there is no part of him that sadness dwells. He has no mannerisms that show damage of any kind; he’s happy from his mantle to his core.

But only he isn’t.

At _fourteen_ , Osamu had realized he liked you as more than a friend. You had helped him make dinner for his parents as an anniversary gift—which he enjoyed very much because he got to see you with an apron and testing food as the two of you adjusted the seasoning on the curry.

At _sixteen_ , Osamu fell in love with your small blushes and shy smiles. He held himself back because you had a boyfriend now. Although he wanted to argue that he could be a hundred times better than the said boy, he remained silent because he didn’t want to hurt you. He continued to bring you handcrafted bento boxes filled with delicious onigiris, but why weren’t you present in the cafeteria? Why were you in the garden with your boyfriend when lunch was _the one time_ you and Osamu spent together no matter what?

You would always come running back to him though. Osamu _always_ felt like he had a one-up on whoever your partner was because he knew that you would come back to him every time. Whether it be watching movies at his place, or studying at your place. He _hated_ himself for being jealous, he hated himself for feeling as if he was better—but the truth is, he just was. He knew he could treat you better than diner dates or a walk in the park, so why was the guilt so heavy?

What _irked_ Osamu more than anything else, was that your scent didn’t linger on you anymore. He used to love that smell; the blue freesia and the white jasmine aroma you radiated used to give him euphoria. But now?

The sickly woodsy smell of your boyfriend’s cologne lingers like the prick from a thorn on a rose. He hates it. The smell was strong, but _you_ liked it, so he didn’t say a word.

At _twenty-two_ , Osamu Miya experienced second-hand heartbreak. He was there to console you, but why did you not want his help? Why did you push him away when he was trying to make you smile? Why did you tell Osamu that you wanted to be left alone? Your boyfriend had broken up with you after dating you for six years, saying that you bored him. So why couldn’t Osamu put a smile on your face when you were muddled up in blankets of tears?

He wanted to cry till he became exhausted from it. Osamu _couldn’t_ watch you isolate yourself from him; he can’t stop loving you. You betray his affections and leave his heart in shattered disarray of pieces, but he just can’t stop loving you. So here he was, _twenty-four_ , still, your best friend; bringing you onigiri at 3 am because you said you were hungry and sad, and also because you had yet again, experienced a break-up.

“[Y/N]?” he opened the door to your apartment, the lack of light inside making him squint. He stepped inside, turning the lights on in the process.

You were sitting on the couch, with a thick blanket(that Osamu had gifted you last year) wrapped around your petite figure and a bowl of ice-cream in your hands as you pressed pause on your laptop.

“‘Samu!” you smiled fakely. He knew that you didn’t want to worry him, but seeing you like that caused his heart to turn into a candied strawberry. Soft, and ready to be bit into. He sighed, taking his boots off and leaving them near the door as he made his way into your kitchen.

Quickly, he placed the onigiris onto a plate and handed it to you. Sitting down next to you, Osamu wrapped the blanket around himself as well, sharing his cool temperature with your warmth.

“You’re colder than I am,” you let out a dry chuckle, intertwining your fingers with his. Just the simple touch made him want to smile, but he couldn’t. Now was not the time to profess his undying and unconditional love for you.

“Eat the food,” he took an onigiri in his hands, bringing it to your face as you looked at him with glassy eyes and a small pout. He could _physically_ feel his chest tighten, as he grunted a little(he was shifting a little closer to you).

“I-I’m… why do you put so much effort into this? Into me?” you asked, tilting your head in the slightest as your voice cracked. You felt like Osamu was _edging_ you on and on. How could he be so kind when you pushed him away? How could he keep coming back without hesitation just to be _neglected_? How could he keep putting effort into a friendship that might as well be one-sided?

He was taken aback, to say the least. He was about to break. He wanted to tell you he loved you, he wanted to tell you he would never leave, he wanted to say he would protect you even if you’re completely _vulnerable_ —but how could he? He was your best friend. He was _your_ 'Samu. He was _your_ “'Samu 'Samu” as you liked to tease him. He wanted to tell you that the two of you would be always, through the highs and the lows, through the old days. But he couldn’t.

You _didn’t_ love him. At least, not in the same way as he loved you. He pined for you for years, yet he couldn’t have you. You were so close, just within his reach. But as he always tried to reach out, he missed you by mere millimeters as you ran to someone else’s arms—someone else that wasn’t him.

You tore his walls down brick-by-brick, so why couldn’t you love him? He came close to having it all a couple of times, only to find out how in love you were with someone that wasn’t him. He wanted you to stay longer at his place sometimes, he wanted you to say those three words that would probably make him cry(if you ever said it, that is), he wanted it to be the two of you till the very end.

He _wished_ that he was good enough.

“Because I’m _your_ 'Samu,” he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. You sobbed—it was more than crying, it was the kind of desolatesobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope. Osamu’s shaky breath made him realize how heartbroken you really were.

“I don’t deserve you,” you said, between sobs as you placed your head on his chest. His voice hitched in his throat as he held you, thinking how even if you used him for the wrong reasons, he would still let you. Even if you would waste his time, cheat him, break his heart, he would take all of that in an instant instead of letting you cry like this.

“Hey,” he murmured, “— _don’t_ say that. Don’t say that you don’t deserve me. I’m your friend. I’m _your_ 'Samu. Of course, you deserve me. You deserve me just as much as I deserve you.”

Your tears were like the waves of the sea. Each new wave a hot trail of agony as slender, bare shoulders trembled in each rake of emotion within your frame.

“You never come to me crying about your exes though. That’s just… _me_ ,” you chuckle dryly, shaking your head as you look up at him with teary eyes. He scoffed, “My relationships never last anyway, and I never get attached. So what’s the point?”

“Are you never even a little hurt? Never hurt that someone you loved so much left you?” you ask, your hands on the blades of his shoulders as he shakes his head. You stared into his eyes; they were beautiful, really. Osamu had the eyes of dove feathers, not the albino kind, but the ones with a shade _so_ tenderly grey that they could have been pencil-drawn. They had that aspect of birds flying on _brilliant_ summer days, the shine and swift action, yet carefree, obstinate, at ease.

“I _don’t_ think I’ve fallen in love with any of them,” he coughs slightly, averting your gaze. You shift yourself to make him more comfortable, but he simply pulls you back into the warm hug that the two of you were sharing before. You pouted a little, asking, “Why is that?”

“Um… well, there’s someone I’d much rather be in love with than those people I have been with,” he says in a nonchalant tone.

And with that, the last layer of your heart falls apart. Because you know that the person he loves isn’t you.

You couldn’t be more wrong. But you kept quiet because you didn’t want to ruin the cherished relationship you shared with the love of your life, Miya Osamu. The one person you didn’t want to lose, so you dated any other boy that wasn’t him.

**© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr/ao3. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.**

**Author's Note:**

> i somehow pull off fluff better than i pull off angst T^T


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